


Nothing Is What It Was

by that_one_book_and_theatre_nerd



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, How convenient, I hope, I'll see myself out, Modern AU, Pining, Pining Anya, Pining Dmitry, This is going to be good, achievement unlocked: tragic backstory, both of them are secretly pining for each other, but neither of them know it, fake dating au, i'm gonna do my best, is this an evergreen forest bc all I see are pines, let's see if I can successfully write a slow burn, oh boy, they live in next-door apartments in NYC, well now that I've tagged that I really can't do it, what even is tagging, without getting fed up and immediately getting the characters together, y'all I'm so excited about this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13319979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_book_and_theatre_nerd/pseuds/that_one_book_and_theatre_nerd
Summary: When Dmitry realizes that his elderly grandmother thinks that he and his next-door-neighbor, Anya, are dating, he devises a scheme to persuade the old woman that he doesn't live alone. Chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! I'm adding on to the never-ending list of fake-dating AUs but I don't care.

“I can’t wait to see you, my little Dima!”  
Dimitry Sudayev blushed at the sound of his childhood nickname from his grandmother over the phone. She was staying with him in his small apartment for two weeks in January, just two months away, and this would be the first time Dimitry had seen his grandmother in years. Both the young man and the old woman were excited to reunite with each other.  
“Me too, Nana,” he replied with a small smile.  
“Oh, and I’m very excited to meet your girlfriend!”  
Dimitry almost dropped the phone as fast as his heart dropped to his stomach.  
“W-What?” he stammered.  
“Oh, silly Dima! That nice girl who lives next door to you! The one you’re always telling me about!”  
Dimitry felt his entire body begin to sweat and grow freezing cold at the same time.  
His grandmother was talking about his next-door-neighbor, Anya Roman.  
They had lived next door to each other for nearly five years, and they had spent the last three years growing closer as friends. The first two years were spent in an all-out prank war over their complaints about each other, and truthfully, Dimitry would have thrown Anya out of their third-story window if given the chance back then—and he was certain she’s do the same to him. But it was three years ago when Anya and Dimitry had found their landlord pick-pocketing his residents, and reported him to the police. They called a truce after the police left to arrest the crooked man, even though just seconds later after shaking hands, both Dimitry and Anya yelled and jumped away from each other in shock—both of them were wearing shock rings in an attempt to prank the other. It was at that moment they decided to become best friends.  
“Oh…” Dimitry said, remembering all the years he’d talked about Anya to his grandmother. “Oh, yeah, yeah, of course…” Dimitry continued, a plan formulating in his mind as he spoke. “Yes. Anya. Anya Roman. Anya Nicole Roman.”  
“Yes, Dima, her.”  
“Right, sorry Nana. Uh, yeah, she’s excited to meet you too!” Dimitry exclaimed as sweat trickled down his forehead and his hands subtly shook. He loathed lying to his Nana, but he couldn’t bear to tell her that he and Anya weren’t dating. She was old, and she and Dimitry were each other’s only living relatives. Dimitry couldn’t live with himself if he broke her frail, old heart.  
“Oh, goody! Well, I need to get going, Dima. It’s bingo night!”  
Dimitry chuckled; his grandmother went _hard_ at bingo.  
“Okay, Nana. Goodnight, I’ll call you soon.”  
“Goodnight, Dimitry! I love you!”  
“Love you too, Nana.”  
Dimitry hung up and put his face in his hands, thinking about the mess he just got himself—and Anya—into.


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitry tells Anya his plan, they freak out for a minute, Dimitry discovers something (that may or may not have something to do with his feelings towards Anya…)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! Don't forget comments and kudos! :) <3

**_One month and three weeks later_**  
Anya Roman was humming to herself as she was cooking eggs in her apartment that looked over New York City. When the eggs were done, she scrambled them, turned the stove off, retrieved her coffee from the coffee-maker that Dimitry had gotten her for Christmas two years ago, and sat down at her kitchen table. She was scrolling through her Twitter feed when her phone started ringing. She smiled and answered.  
“Hello?”  
“Anya?”  
“No, this is Barack Obama.” Anya rolled her eyes and giggled.  
“Ha, ha, very funny, but you sound more like Michelle.”  
“Valid. So, what’s up, Dimitry?”  
“I…um…” Dimitry started.  
“Spit it out, dude. Do you need me to do the Heimlich to get it out of you?”  
“You might,” Dimitry mumbled. Anya couldn’t quite understand what he just said.  
“What?” Anya asked narrowing her eyebrows in confusion.  
“N-Nothing,” Dimitry stammered. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Hey, can I, like, come over real quick? I need to ask you to do a really important favor.”  
“Sure,” Anya replied, taking a sip of her coffee.  
“Good, because I’m already at your front door,” Dimitry said as Anya heard him knock on the door.  
“Oh, could you hold on, Dimitry? There’s someone at the door.” Anya held back a laugh as she smiled and got up.  
“Anya—” was all Dimitry could say before Anya continued.  
“I’ll call you back, I just gotta talk to this weirdo at my door.” Anya was practically speaking into the door rather the phone. “I’ll talk to you later, Dimitry!” Anya hung up the phone and opened the door, revealing Dimitry Sudayev with an expression that was either trying not to laugh or very frustrated. Anya, however, had already started laughing at her little stint.  
“Must you do that _every_ time I’m calling you at your door?” Dimitry asked.  
“Yes,” Anya replied, opening the door more to let him in. “Make yourself at home, I just made eggs.”  
“Oohh, thank you!” Dimitry said, sitting down in Anya’s chair and eating her eggs.  
“Hey!” Anya exclaimed, running over to the table and snatching the plate of eggs from Dimitry.  
“You said you made eggs!” Dimitry said with a mouth full of eggs, pretending to be offended.  
“First of all, gross,” Anya started, chuckling and cracking eggs. “Second of all, I’ll make you eggs right now, dummy. Third of all, what’s the favor?” Anya stirred the eggs and poured them onto the hot pan. She noticed how Dimitry froze up when she mentioned the favor as she scrambled the eggs.  
“Um…well…I…you see, the thing is…” Dimitry stumbled over his words, as if trying to fight the right thing to say.  
“Hey,” Anya said in a calm and soothing voice, carrying over a plate of freshly scrambled eggs. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything.” She set the plate down in front of Dimitry—who was staring straight ahead as if petrified—and rubbed his arm. Dimitry blinked and took a deep breath.  
“Okay, so you know my Nana, right?” Dimitry asked. Anya nodded. “Well, she’s staying over for like, I think two weeks in a week—”  
“Oh, cool! I’ve always wanted to meet your grandma!” Anya said excitedly. “You’re always telling me about her!”  
Dimitry tried not to think about how his grandmother had said the same words about Anya.  
“Yeah, and…she, uhh…”  
Anya gave Dimitry an encouraging nod.  
“She kind of thinks we’re dating.”  
Dimitry had spoken the words too fast that neither person was completely sure of what he had just said.  
“What?” Anya asked in confusion, knitting her eyebrows together.  
“My Nana thinks that we—” Dimitry motioned to himself and Anya “—are dating.”  
Anya’s blue eyes widened and her face turned almost more red than the shade of her strawberry-blonde hair.  
“WHAT?!”  
Anya proceeded to pace around her kitchen, rambling on with what seemed like an endless amount of questions: “Excuse me?!” “Why?!” “When did you tell her this?!” “What do you mean ‘dating’?!” “Why?!” “How long have we been allegedly ‘dating’?!” “WHY?!”  
Dimitry simply sat and took deep breaths as he ate the eggs Anya had made for him. He waited for Anya to cool down and sit back down at the table. He knew not to answer Anya’s questions when she was confused and/or frustrated until she had calmed down. He had learned that lesson the hard way. When Anya finally had stopped rambling loudly and sat back down, she took a deep breath and put her head in her hands. “When did you tell her this.” Anya did not ask this; rather she stated it, as if she were interrogating  
“About a year ago. She called me and asked about my friends, and I told her about you, and she said something like ‘oh, you two must be so happy together!’ before she had to go.”  
“And you haven’t thought to tell her that we _aren’t_ dating?”  
“Listen, Anya, she’s like 95 years old, and…we’re all we have. We’re the only family we have left. We just lost Grandpa last year. I…I couldn’t live with myself if she knew that I was alone when she had just lost the love of her life.”  
Anya stared at Dimitry in shock. He put his head in his hands.  
“Dimitry…I…oh God, I’m…I’m so sorry. I should have remembered the stuff about how old she is and your grandfather and—”  
“Hey.” Dimitry cut Anya off as he walked over to the other side of the table and knelt down next to her. “It’s okay. You have every right to be mad at me. I didn’t tell you this to guilt you into helping me, I just need you to understand the situation, so that if you do say no—which is _completely_ fine, I promise—we can come up with a plan on how to explain it to her.”  
Anya took a deep breath and closed her eyes in an attempt to calm down. If she made a decision while stressed, it never resulted in good.  
Dimitry patiently waited by Anya’s side as she thought and made her decision.  
“Okay.”  
Dimitry stared at her in disbelief.  
“What?” he asked, too shocked to trust his ears.  
“I said okay, Dimitry,” Anya replied, smirking.  
Dimitry immediately wrapped Anya up in a hug.  
“Thank you, Anya Nicole Roman. You are a _lifesaver._ ”  
“Say my middle name again and I’ll be anything _but_ a lifesaver,” Anya whispered into Dimitry’s ear. Dimitry chuckled.  
“Fair enough.”


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitry and Anya plan out details on their fake relationship, Dimitry has fEELINGS *gasp*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL BETTER GET READY FOR SOME GOOD OL' PINING DIMITRY BECAUSE HOOO BOY WE ARE JUST GETTING STARTED

“Okay, so give me all the rest of the juicy details about our ‘relationship.’” Anya used her fingers to create quotation marks when she said the word relationship. Dimitry chuckled. They were sitting in Dimitry’s apartment at his kitchen table, pieces of paper spread across between the two fake-lovers.  
“Well, we started dating about a year ago, I think in like September or something. I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure it was autumn,” Dimitry explained, trying to remember everything he had told his grandmother about Anya.  
“Wow, you’re a _horrible_ boyfriend. ‘Sometime in autumn.’ Wow. Such dedication,” Anya said sarcastically, pretending to be offended.  
“Hey, _you’re_ the one who didn’t even _know_ we were in a relationship!” Dimitry jokingly retorted.  
“That’s because you _never_ told me! It’s like you don’t even _care!_ ” Anya exclaimed dramatically, throwing the back of her palm against her forehead.  
Dimitry and Anya laughed heartily at their dramatic efforts.  
“Okay, I think I have a vague idea of the timeline written down here. How’s your Nana at remembering specific details?”  
“She can remember basics, but nothing exact like this.”  
“Thank goodness.” Anya breathed a sigh of relief.  
Dimitry and Anya sat in silence for a minute, processing their situation. Dimitry looked at Anya, and for a fleeting second, he thought to himself:  
_Dang, I’m lucky **Anya’s** the one I’m doing this with._  
The thought startled Dimitry to the point of shuddering, startling Anya.  
“What is it?” Anya asked, her eyebrows knitted together in concern.  
“Um, nothing. Sorry, I just zoned out and almost fell asleep,” Dimitry hastily explained. Anya looked slightly unconvinced, but nodded.  
“Anything else we should discuss about our supposed ‘relationship’ in order to really pull this off?” Anya asked after a moment of silence.  
“Pet names?” Dimitry asked.  
“Sweetheart, Darling, Hon, etc,” Anya listed off the basic names they’d call each other in front of Dimitry’s grandmother.  
“Our first date?”  
“The Italian restaurant a few blocks away from here. Nothing too romantic, but we almost had a Lady and the Tramp moment with our spaghetti.”  
Dimitry smiled at the thought of him and Anya having an almost-kiss with spaghetti, but he immediately shut off the thought and returned to focusing on the here-and-now.  
“Our first kiss?”  
Both Dimitry and Anya’s faceswent red.  
“…Mistletoe,” Anya stated.  
“Sounds good,” Dimitry replied. He looked down and checked his watch. “Hey, Anya, I gotta go. I got called in for an emergency shift tonight at the book store.”  
“No worries, we can continue this tomorrow,” Anya replied, gathering up the papers and neatly putting them in a binder with the cover labeled “Chemistry.”  
“Why are we pretending this is a Chemistry notebook? Neither of us are in school, and neither of us even studied anything in the scientific field.”  
“Because hopefully your grandmother hates Chemistry as much as I do and she’ll be so repulsed at the thought of Chemistry that she won’t dare to even touch this,” Anya explained.  
“Fair enough,” Dimitry replied.  
“Well, I’ll see you soon,” Anya said as she was walking towards the door.  
“See ya,” Dimitry replied.  
Anya smiled and waved at him for a second before closing the door behind her.  
Dimitry wished he could ignore the little pang of pain his heart inflicted upon his chest when Anya left.


	4. Chapter IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya and Dimitry realize they've forgotten to practice a crucial action of a romantic relationship. <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kind of short, but I wanna kinda split the POVs between chapters, and I want to write the next one in Anya's POV, so yeah. Enjoy! Don't forget comments and kudos! :) <3 And thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments, they all mean so much!! :) :) <3 <3 <3

**_One week later._**  
“You ready?” Dimitry asked, turning towards Anya. They were sitting in the parking lot of The Royal Home, a retirement home for elderly people, where Dimitry’s grandmother lived. It was a few miles away from Manhattan, and Dimitry was scheduled to pick up his Nana at four o’clock. It was 3:55.  
“Mm-hmm,” Anya replied, staring straight ahead at the building in terror, twirling a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair. Dimitry noted that she did that whenever she was nervous.  
“Hey,” Dimitry said softly, taking Anya’s fidgeting hand into his own. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ve _totally_ got this.”  
“Don’t get cocky,” Anya replied, smirking as she leaned over to kiss Dimitry on the cheek.  
Dimitry thought his heart would burst out of his chest from beating too hard.  
“Well,” Dimitry said as he turned the car off. “Let’s get this show on the road.”  
They were about to enter the building when Anya stopped dead in her tracks.  
“Wait!”  
Dimitry nearly jumped at Anya’s sudden exclamation.  
“Sorry,” Anya said, squinting her eyes. “I just realized we never practiced something!”  
For a week, they had bee practicing and rehearsing and learning how to act like a stable romantic couple. It filled Dimitry with joy and liveliness, but it also killed him inside, knowing that it wasn’t real.  
About half-way through the week, Dimitry finally admitted to himself that he had a huge crush on Anya. He still couldn’t decide if this was a good thing or a bad thing, considering the fact that they had to pretend to date. He tried not to think about it for too long. His friend Vlad had been teasing him about having a crush on Anya for years, and for years, Dimitry had rolled his eyes at it. Dimitry wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at his past self or slap him.  
“What did we forget?” Dimitry nervously asked, scanning and searching for what more he and Anya needed to do.  
“We haven’t kissed yet,” Anya stated, looking into Dimitry’s warm, brown eyes.  
Dimitry’s breath stopped.  
“I, uh…thought we’d do that when the time came?” Dimitry nervously suggested.  
“Well, _yeah,_ but we need to make it look natural. I mean, _you’re_ the one who’s been on me for the past week about how , in your own words, “artificially natural” this whole scheme needs to be!”  
“Well, alright then,” Dimitry agreed. “Let’s practice.”  
“Alright,” Anya said.  
“Alright.”  
Anya gently took hold of Dimitry’s neck and brought his face to hers and gently pressed their lips together. Dimitry wrapped his arms around Anya’s waist as he closed his eyes.  
When Anya pulled away, Dimitry used every ounce of self restraint he could muster up to not lean back in.  
“So,” Anya whispered, her face still close to Dimitry’s.  
“So,” Dimitry replied.  
“Ready to go and do this, _babe?_ ”  
Anya smiled and it filled Dimitry’s heart with love and flowers. He lifted Anya’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of her palm.  
“Let’s go, _sweetheart._ ”  
Anya laughed and held onto his arm as they walked into the nursing home.


	5. Chapter V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitry and Anya pick up Dimitry's grandmother Natasha from the nursing/retirement home and oh man is Dimitry's grandmother such a character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about calling Dimitry's grandmother by her first name "Natasha" when describing her and her actions, etc because typing out "Dimitry's grandmother" was getting old. Don't forget comments and kudos!  
> also bonus points if you can guess the two references I made in this chapter (hint: one is from The Office and the other is from The Great Comet) :)

Anya felt like if her heart beat any faster than it already was, she was literally going to explode.  
_Dear **God,** what was I **thinking?!** Kissing Dimitry like that?! **What?!**_  
Not that Anya didn’t _enjoy_ the kiss—she _was_ the one who initiated it, after all—but she wasn’t _quite_ sure as to why her heart felt like it was beating at a million beats per second.  
Anya snapped herself out of her thoughts as she and Dimitry approached the front desk. The lady who worked there greeted them with a bright smile.  
“Hello, welcome to The Royal Home! My name is Pam Fischer, how can I be of assistance?”  
“I’m here to pick up my grandmother, Natasha Sudayev,” Dimitry replied.  
“Oh, you must be Dimitry! Yes, Natasha’s been so excited about her little vacation! I’ll go get her. While you wait, please sign out these forms. I’ll be right back!”  
Once the receptionist handed Dimitry a few forms, a pen, and a clipboard, she walked away, and Anya and Dimitry took a seat on a couch that was in the waiting room.  
“I like that,” Anya said, still holding onto Dimitry’s arm. She didn’t even realize she was doing that until Dimitry had to move it in order to write.  
“Hmm?” Dimitry asked.  
“Her name,” Anya hastily explained, realizing how vague her comment was. “I’ve always liked the name Natasha.”  
“Oh. Yeah, she was born in Russia, so…her name…is Russian…and, uh, yeah,” Dimitry said.  
“Oh, that’s cool,” Anya replied.  
Anya and Dimitry sat in an awkward silence as Dimitry filled out the forms. He completed the forms in under a minute, and Dimitry sat them on the front desk.  
“You filled out those forms pretty fast; do you come here a lot?” Anya asked as Dimitry sat down next to her again.  
“Yeah, I basically could fill out those forms with my eyes closed at this point.”  
Anya smiled.  
“That’s so sweet.”  
“Huh?” Dimitry asked, confused.  
“Well, if you have the forms practically memorized, one can logically assume that you visit here often,” Anya explained.  
Dimitry chuckled.  
“Yeah, you caught me, Sherlock. I visit my grandma a lot, she claims she isn’t lonely and that she likes it here, but since we lost Grandpa…I dunno, she just seems…” Dimitry trailed off, trying to find the right word.  
“Lonely?” Anya suggested.  
“Yeah,” Dimitry replied. “Lonely.”  
Anya rubbed Dimitry’s arm.  
“I’m sorry.”  
Dimitry softly took hold of the hand Anya was rubbing his arm with and began rubbing his thumb along the back of Anya’s palm.  
“It’s alright, you don’t have to feel sorry.”  
“I know, but I just…” Anya started as she looked into Dimitry’s eyes.  
“What?” Dimitry asked, looking right back at her own eyes.  
“I—”  
Anya was suddenly cut off by an elderly woman who appeared to be Dimitry’s grandmother.  
“Dima!”  
The woman walked with a cane and had thin white hair, and most of the wrinkles on her face seemed to be caused by smiling. She had the same dark brown eyes that Dimitry had, and their smiled shined similarly as well. She wore a light pink cardigan with a simple white dress with flowers sewn on.  
“Hey, Nana!” Dimitry exclaimed, smiling brightly and getting up to give his grandmother a hug.  
“Oh, Dima! I’m so excited to spend the next two weeks with you! I remembered it was two weeks because I wrote it down every day!”  
“That’s awesome, Nana!”  
Dimitry’s grandmother suddenly noticed Anya. Her eyes and smile both somehow grew bigger.  
“Dima! Is this that Anya you’ve been telling me about?” Dimitry and Anya both started to blush. Dimitry’s grandmother excitedly hobbled over to Anya, who got up and approached the old woman to shake her hand.  
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sudayev,” Anya said, smiling.  
“Oh, please. ‘Mrs. Sudayev’ was my mother’s name. You must call me Natasha!”  
“Of course, Mrs. Natasha,” Anya replied.  
“Oh, my darling girl, you’re too polite! Dimitry, how much are you paying her to be your date?” Natasha laughed and patted her grandson (whose face was growing redder by the minute) on the arm. “I’m just messing with you, dear. You’re an angel and a sweetheart!”  
“Okay, Nana, it’s time to go now. Are your helpers getting your stuff?”  
“Yes, I think they’re coming now,” Natasha said as two retirement home workers carried down two bags of luggage. Dimitry tipped the luggage carriers and thanked them, then after making sure all the forms were good, Dimitry took the bags and led Anya and his grandmother outside to the car.  
“Here, Dimitry, let me help you,” Anya offered.  
“No, don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Dimitry replied.  
“Dima! Don’t be rude! Your darling girlfriend here is trying to help!” Natasha exclaimed. Dimitry handed a bag to Anya, who couldn’t help but giggle at Natasha’s little remarks.  
“Your grandmother is _awesome!_ ” Anya whispered to Dimitry as the trio approached the car and began packing the bags into the trunk as Natasha climbed in the back seat.  
“Just wait until she starts watching Jeopardy. Trust me, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”  
Anya laughed, and Dimitry noticed how it was one of the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. His heart felt like it was full and warm like a gooey chocolate chip cookie when he looked at how the sun made her strawberry-blond hair shine and her bright blue eyes sparkle.  
_Oh man,_ Dimitry thought nervously to himself as he got into the driver's seat and turned on the car. _**How the heck** am I going to get through **this?**_


	6. Chapter VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya has a crisis over her feelings (LMAO SAME) *cough* I mean what  
> She's not insane she's just thinking to herself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finally realized I've been spelling Dmitry wrong for the past million years. Whoops.  
> Enjoy! Don't forget comments and kudos! :) <3

**_Later that evening_**  
Dmitry yawned and checked the time on his phone: 11:30 PM.  
“We should get some sleep,” Dmitry said, stretching his arms up.  
His Nana had gone to bed at around seven, and Dmitry and Anya had been watching TV since then.  
Anya yawned and replied.  
“Okay.”  
Dmitry suddenly noticed that Anya’s head rested on his shoulder, and he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from flying around frantically.  
“Well, I’m off,” Anya said as she stood up, “Goodnight.”  
“Wait,” Dmitry said, yawning again. Anya looked at him, confused. “My grandma likes to get up really early to watch the news, and if realizes you didn’t spend the night, she might figure out that something’s up,” Dmitry explained.  
“So what you’re saying is, you want to sleep with me?” Anya asked, smirking and giggling in a way only a very tired person could.  
“Mmhmm,” Dmitry replied, so tired he didn't realize what exactly he had just said. He suddenly realized what Anya meant when she started laughing.  
“Okay, _Dima,”_ Anya said suggestively while wiggling her eyebrows. She started laughing at Dmitry’s confusion once his eyes went wide with fear.  
“WAIT! No! I mean, yes, but not—not like _that!”_ Dmitry frantically tried to explain himself. He stopped talking when Anya walked over and hugged him.  
“You’re hilariously adorable when you’re flustered, she whispered against his chest.  
Dmitry silently prayed to whatever force existed that Anya couldn’t feel his heart beating at a mile a minute.  
Little did Dmitry know that Anya was thinking the exact same thing.  
~~~~~  
Anya hoped that Dmitry couldn’t feel her heart beating at a mile a minute as she hugged him. She meant her comment about sleeping together as a light-hearted joke, but when she thought of them sleeping in the same bed, her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest.  
“Well,” Dmitry said as he gently pulled away from the hug, “go ahead and do whatever you need to do to get ready for bed. Could you maybe bring some stuff over, just to make it look like you live here?”  
“But doesn’t she know that I live next door?”  
“Well, yeah, but I’m just trying to make all this work,” Dmitry explained, waving his hands around at the end in some sort of confused gesture.  
“Fair enough,” Anya replied. “I’ll be right back.”  
“Cool,” Dmitry said.  
As Anya went to her apartment and gathered up a few toiletries, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream forever or never speak again. Her heartbeat had thankfully slowed, but the weird fluttering sensation in her stomach hadn’t yet subsided. She looked at herself in the mirror and could almost imagine her reflection speaking her self-destructive thoughts.  
_Dmitry? **Really?!** You **do** know this is all **fake,** right? He’s just **using** you to keep up a **lie** he told his grandma. He can’t **possibly** have feelings for you, so don’t even **think** about hoping for him to **like you back.**_  
“I don’t like him,” Anya whispered to herself.  
_Oh, puh-lease! As if you didn’t **pretend** to fall asleep **just** so you could see what it would feel like to lie down on his shoulder._  
“But…it’s not like he’s trying to hurt me,” Anya attempted to reason with herself. “And he has nice shoulders.”  
_Oh, **of course.** He’s really not **trying** to hurt you. He doesn’t know how you feel, he’s **way** too nice to **intentionally** harm you like this. But doesn’t knowing that he’s not **trying** to hurt you just **hurt even more?** And yes, those shoulders are **high quality.**_  
Anya quickly shook her head to stop the conversation she was having with herself. She grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and other random stuff to make it took like she spent most of her time at Dmitry’s.  
_Pull yourself together, Anya,_ she thought to herself as she quietly reentered Dmitry’s apartment.  
It was around midnight by now, and the apartment was pitch-black. After her eyes adjusted, Anya walked into Dmitry’s bedroom after setting her stuff on the bathroom counter. When she crawled into Dmitry’s bed, she noticed that he was asleep. His mouth was relaxed in a gentle smile, and Anya couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and peaceful Dmitry looked when he was sleeping. Anya rested her head on her pillow and began to fall asleep, images of Dmitry and cute puppies floating through her mind.


	7. Chapter VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So instead of having her family murdered I decided to replace it with a less traumatizing (but still pretty traumatizing) experience for Anya. I get choked up every time I read about the Romanov's assassination, like the children were SO YOUNG! IT BREAKS MY HEART! :( oh well. Anya's family is all still alive and well in this fic. I doubt we'll see them in this fic (but idk honestly, I'm literally making this up as I go) but I'd love to write something with all of the Romanov siblings! Maybe someday. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all of your kind words! Every single comment means the world to me!! :) <3  
> That being said, don't forget to leave comments and kudos! :) <3

When Dmitry woke up at around eight the next morning, he noticed four things.  
First: Anya was still sound asleep.  
Second: Anya was practically wrapped in his arms, and she had locked their hands together so they rested on the blankets in front of her.  
Third: Anya’s hands were so soft.  
Fourth: The news channel was blaring from his living room, and the smell of freshly cooked pancakes and bacon wafted throughout the apartment.  
He figured it was the delicious smell that woke him up.  
As Dmitry gained consciousness, he lifted his head and moved the arm that Anya was holding, but she squeezed his hand and groaned.  
“Are you awake?” Dmitry whispered, whispering close to Anya’s ear.  
“No,” she replied, tugging on Dmitry’s hand. Dmitry chuckled.  
“Wait, where am I?” Anya asked, suddenly startled. She abruptly sat up and quickly looked around the room, then at Dmitry. She breathed a sigh of relief.  
“…You okay?” Dmitry asked, concerned.  
“Yeah, I just…forgot where I was,” Anya replied, still trying to catch her breath. Dmitry gently began rubbing Anya’s arm. She moved her arm to adjust her position and was slightly disheartened when Dmitry moved his hand away. She laid back down on her pillow and stared at the ceiling.  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dmitry asked, lying back down on his side so he faced Anya.  
“Eh,” Anya replied, shrugging. “I just…I don’t like it when I…wake up in an unfamiliar place.”  
“Haven’t you spent the night here before?”  
“Yeah, but I always sleep on the couch and you sleep on the recliner and when we wake up at either some ungodly early or late hour, the TV’s still on from the night before, and then you complain about electricity bills and I remind you that this is your own fault…and yeah,” Anya replied, slightly blushing and turning on her side to face Dmitry, who laughed.  
_“So specific.”_  
“ _Someone_ here has to remember things.”  
“Hey!” Dmitry nudged Anya’s legs with his foot. Anya giggled.  
“But, really…you looked like you were a deer in headlights when you woke up, are you sure you’re alright?” Dmitry asked. Anya took his hand in her own and took a deep breath.  
“Well, you know my parents. My father, Nicholas, was a big politician, and my mother, Alexandra, was an activist. They made a lot of enemies…some of them turned out to be seriously dangerous.”  
Anya shuddered, and Dmitry scooted closer to her and began rubbing her arm again as Anya continued.  
“When I was thirteen, I woke up tied to a mattress on a bed. There was a light hanging right above me. My siblings were in beds, tied up like how I was, next to me. Four beds, four Roman children. We were held for ransom. Our kidnappers fed us maybe once or twice over the two weeks they held my siblings and I captive. It was in the middle of July, and we were in some kind of basement, and it was so cold and yet so hot. They untied us after a day, but the room we were kept in was no bigger than this bedroom. Four children—well, Olga was maybe eighteen, but still. We were all so young. We all thought we were going to die. The police and other agencies found us after three days. My sisters and I were so sick. My…my little brother, Alexei…he was only nine…he had to be hospitalized. He had passed out and he had been unconscious for at least a day when we were found. He recovered, thank God, but it…it was traumatizing. I mean, they didn’t really physically harm us—except for the starvation thing, but still. I feel like it could have been worse…I’m just so glad we all survived. My siblings and I eventually started sleeping in the living room, just so we could all be together through the night. We all still have nightmares about it. We thought the kidnappers would go after our parents as well.” Anya shivered—no, she was shaking as she recounted the horror. “Now, unless I know for a fact that where I am is safe, I can’t sleep. I still have nightmares about it…they always feel so real, and it always feels like I’m waking up in the cellar again, but alone this time, and I just…” Dmitry’s heart felt like it was vibrating and shattering at the same time. Anya had started to softly cry when she talked about her siblings, and Dmitry hated himself for bringing the topic up.  
“I…oh God, Anya. I’m so sorry I brought it up.” Dmitry pulled Anya close and she nestled up against him, still crying.  
“It’s…it’s okay, Dmitry. I…I n-needed to t-tell someone ab-bout it. I-I’ve b-been keeping it t-to myself for s-so long.” Anya stumbled over her words and sobs.  
Dmitry held Anya close and Anya rested her hands against Dmitry’s chest.  
She could feel his heart beating.  
~~~~~  
When Natasha entered Dmitry’s room at around nine-thirty, she smiled fondly at the couple, sound asleep, seemingly occupying the same space.  
Both Dmitry and Anya had small and content smiles as they slept.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short scene of the morning after last night. That sounds really…naughty???? lol if you're here then you know what's up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAOOOOO it's been almost a fUCKING YEAR since I updated this! Wow! I'm So Sorry About This! I actually just saw Anastasia on Broadway a few weeks ago so I've been inspired to keep writing this! I'm So Sorry this took so long and I'm sorry this chapter is just kinda here for filler, but I'm thinking that there'll be around 3-ish chapters left in this fic? Like, probably only 1 or 2 but I'm trying to aim higher lol. Anyways yeah sorry for the million-year-long absence of this story but without further ado here's chapter eight!  
> Again sorry for the lack of action in this one and for the lack of words, this chapter has been sitting unfinished for almost a year and I wanted to finish it sOMEHOW and this is the best I could do bc I'm the worst oof :/

Anya wasn’t sure how much longer she could last pretending to be in love with Dmitry while actually crushing on him. Every time she let herself think about him, she had to remind herself that her staying with him was just so that his aging grandmother wouldn’t think that he lived alone. He couldn’t—no, didn’t—feel the same way about her.

She forced herself to put on a smile as she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. Natasha was sitting on the couch, watching TV and sipping some coffee from one of Dmitry’s favorite mugs.

“Is Dima still sleeping?” she asked when she saw Anya.

Anya yawned and nodded her head.

“Oh, that lazy bones!” she chuckled. “I’m always awake before seven. I like to watch the Today Show!”

“Cool,” Anya replied, turning on the stove to prepare some scrambled eggs for her and Dmitry. “Honestly, as much as I want to stay aware of what’s going on in the world, I can’t deal with all the depressing stuff. It’s just…” Anya trailed off, remembering what it was like seeing news of her and her siblings’ capture on the news for months.

“Too much?” Natasha finished for her, concerned.

Anya nodded again.

There was a moment of silence before Natasha spoke again.

“Pardon me, madame, but you look awfully familiar. Like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“Well, my father is Nicholas Roman, that politician who ran for the House of Representatives about a decade or so ago.”

“Oh! I knew you looked like someone in the government! Remind me, did he win?”

“Not the Senate, but he served a term in the House.”

“Oh, how wonderful!”

Anya politely smiled again. She heard footsteps approaching, and turned around to see Dmitry, stretching and yawning as he walked into the kitchen.

“Morning Nana, morning Anya,” he greeted the ladies. Dmitry walked over and, with a smile, kissed Anya on her forehead.

She felt light as a feather.

“Oh, my Dima! How did you sleep last night?” Natasha clasped her hands and smiled up brightly at her grandson.

Dmitry poured himself a cup of coffee (which Anya liked to joke was just milk with a few drops of caffeine) before sitting down next to Anya. Almost instinctively, she nestled up against him. She tried not to smile too much when she noticed Natasha happily eyeing the two of them.

“Pretty good, Nana. And you?”

“Oh, I slept wonderful, darling! I read a story in the paper today about how young people nowadays are living alone more often than with someone, and it just makes me happy knowing you’re not alone Dima.”

Anya looked up at Dmitry to find him already gazing at her. She couldn’t help but feel her heart jump.

“Yeah,” Dmitry replied, not taking his eyes off of Anya. “I’m a really lucky guy.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead again, and Anya could have sworn she felt Dmitry’s heart speed up just as hers did.


End file.
